


March of 1907

by prettyyboyy



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt Dutch van der Linde, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening to Hozier's Music, M/M, Not Beta Read, This Is STUPID, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?, Young Arthur Morgan, Young Dutch van der Linde, Young Hosea Matthews
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:08:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28408239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyyboyy/pseuds/prettyyboyy
Summary: Maybe if he had known, it wouldn't have all gone to hell.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	March of 1907

**Author's Note:**

> This sucks frfr but I made a little playlist for it and I'm constantly adding to it so u can listen to that while u read it if u like !!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6easahpCwORqUy66lbbO4j?si=hxT3xqJQTBOdpnZfGTiEWg

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The spring weather was lovely and yet the mountain air was ruthless and unforgiving, hitting his face like a thousand pins. Everything he’d done had led up to this very moment, a part of him hoped that he had at least in some way requited his son. Or maybe everything he’d do from this point forward would never be enough to make up for what he’s done. He makes his way down the steep slopes of the mountain. And he dreams that one day it would make sense to him, but who was he to know.

He walks with no end, too stunned to think. His mind was vacant, free of any load and his feet took him wherever they wished. His face was a blank slate, all emotion wiped from it. His eyes, once filled with joy and intent now lifeless.

He trudged through the icy paths for miles to come, the snow slowly fading and the weather less cruel until he reached a lake, it wasn’t as chilly as it was higher up but the wind was still strong enough to move the water. It rippled as the air gently brushed against it. It somehow looked, pitying and forgiving. And as he falls to his aching knees and stares into the plains ahead of him he could not help but wonder, where did it all go wrong?

At what point had they crossed the line from honest men vying for a better, more fair future to villains and transgressors. Was there ever really a difference? Or was it that every criminal and wrongdoer had a justification for what they’d done, just like they did? Or did they at one point have it right?

The wind slows down and the air halts and all he can hear are the sounds of animals rushing to and from wherever they willed. His grief and regret had inundated him. He felt the wind engulf him, it held him in its arms. And for a moment it felt like Hosea was by his side bearing him in his warm, loving embrace.

And it is only when he sits at the edge and his reflection in the water stares right back at him that everything finally dawns on him. The same way it had up on that mountain. In a way, he wasn’t sorry. A part of him carried his dishonor and what it had him do with pride. His sorrow and misery ate at him enough as to where it led him to believe that maybe this way he’d be avenging Hosea, making it easier for him to rest in his grave. By leading everyone that was left to safety, but rather drove them all to the ground. 

And when he thinks of it now, how was he ever to know? And there he found what would be the brutal truth, that he was never as almighty as he thought he was, at least not with Hosea by his side. He made him feel like anything he willed into existence would show. The fact of the matter, however, was that he knew nothing.

And as the wind picked up once more, leaving Dutch cold again he wished that he would once again be in Hosea’s arms, or at least had given him a proper goodbye, that would have sufficed. His mind wanders to a time when they were all happier.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

_They sway to the sounds of crickets and leaves rustling, the sounds of nothingness around them disrupted by their giggles and laughter._

_“you know, if anyone was to pass by now, we would look very much like idiots to them” Hosea looks up at dutch, his lips wore a smile that looked like it hid all of the world's exhilaration behind it._

_“Ah yes, but if you truly think about it everyone looks a little silly. So why should two people dancing without music be any different”_

_He pauses and looks into Hosea’s eyes wishing he could keep the man happy forever. He would carry his pain for the rest of time if that’s what he needed to do._

_“However if it would make you happier, maybe next time I’ll steal you a gramophone”_

_“Please don’t do that. knowing you, you would sit by it all day and go on about how lovely this symphony is”_

_“Nonsense! I would go on about lovely you looked while we danced to said symphony”_

_Their chuckles fill the air once more and they spin underneath the striking moonlight. They stared into each other’s illuminated eyes and it was then that it had occurred to Dutch, he would never be able to live without this man. He never thought he’d have to._

_A young boy interrupts their little dance only to show them a drawing he had made of both of them as they danced._

_“That looks very lovely,” Hosea answers in awe of the boy’s skills_

_And as a young Arthur sits down again, and watches his two guardian angels twirl around, no one could have ever anticipated how this would have gone so wrong._

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dutch returns to reality and sees that there are now tears falling from his eyes, and he can see Hosea next to him. The ghost of his past gently runs his hands up and down his back but he cannot feel them. 

“I’m sorry, Hosea” He is turning to someone that is no longer there. 

And once again his mind escapes him this time, to the last time he had properly held the man. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

_“Shhhh you’re making too much noise!” Hosea whisper shouts at Dutch._

_“No! You are!” Dutch quietly yells back._

_Their stifled laughter crowds the little bubble belonging to them. And as they stumble into camp they struggle to remain silent and risk waking up the entire camp._

_The pair had just returned from a very late night rendezvous. Ever since they had arrived at Saint-Denis, Dutch had set his heart on going to one of the town parties. The ones where everyone dances and the city lights cover the stars. Tonight, he had asked Hosea to come with him, who at first was pretty reluctant as it was already getting quite late but agreed nonetheless._

_Now after one too many drinks and a few hours dancing and roaming amongst strangers, they make their way back to camp staggering towards the dominoes table._

_Dutch takes a seat at one end and gestures for Hosea to take the seat across from him._

_"Can you play old man?”_

_“Oh I can, but can you?”_

_“Absolutely not!”_

_Their laughter gets louder this time and for a moment the world goes still. All worries lifted from their shoulders, and they are happy. Content with their lives in this one moment._

_“Well, I’ll be heading off to sleep,” Hosea stands up, about to make his way to his room “let’s go to more parties”_

_And with that he walks towards the house in front of him and leaves Dutch behind, smiling._

_Dutch too soon enough makes way towards his room, his hand hovers over the doorknob for a minute, and instead, he decides to make his way to a lower floor._

_He knocks on Hosea’s door, opening it before a response was given._

_“Move over old man, I’m sleeping here tonight”_

_Hosea laughs but obliges._

_The significance lay in what was not said. Yet so obviously expressed._

_And if only he knew this was the last time he’d hold him, maybe he never would have let go._

_There was beauty in the simplicity of their nights' end as there was meaning._

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Sometimes, loving someone is spending eternity with them feeling like you should be sick of them. But rather falling more for them than you ever have. And sometimes it is watching them drift from you and not being able to hold them one last time to tell them how much they actually meant to you and how pretty the world was through their eyes for you. 

But to him, love was watching a man drift into a deathless death, a man once familiar now nothing but a corpse. He wanted to assure himself that he would not go anywhere. Hosea, who was once Dutch’s living reminder of happiness had faded into nothing more than a painful memory. He would burn dutch with him and dutch would oblige having honor in his downfall being on this man’s hands. 

And as he regains all thought he realizes, that now no one is by him but he knew Hosea would always be watching over him. There is no turning from this point. He had become the thing he despised the most, a murderer, and a man without a purpose. Now, he did not have a chance at redemption nor salvation, no one worth changing for anymore, no one worth saving himself for. He could only hope that John would lead a better life than they did. 

It hadn’t saddened him, to see himself turn into what he had become. See, there was a sharp, unsweetened triumph in falling to your demise when instead, you should have been staring through dazzling heights. He lit the world on fire and watched the beauty of the flames unfold from the middle of it all as it incinerated him with it. 

And as rain falls and all the color drains from the sky it disguises his madness, long growing within his soul. Now all he can remember is death and destruction and when he thinks of his family, he no longer thinks, of love.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading that and pls do leave feedback i need all the help i can get !!


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